


Portraiture

by LilacsandFreedom



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Elezen Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), F/M, Female Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), Final Fantasy XIV: Heavensward Spoilers, Final Fantasy XIV: Shadowbringers Spoilers, Gen, Ishgard (Final Fantasy XIV), Light Angst, Named Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), POV Original Character, POV Third Person, POV Third Person Limited, Patch 5.4: Futures Rewritten, Post-Final Fantasy XIV: Shadowbringers, White Mage Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), big spoils for HW very minor spoilers for 5.3 ShB, this is basically a side story
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-16
Updated: 2021-01-16
Packaged: 2021-03-13 18:02:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,940
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28782411
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LilacsandFreedom/pseuds/LilacsandFreedom
Summary: After a long sickness, a young Ishgardian suddenly finds himself compelled to paint a mysterious portrait...
Relationships: Haurchefant Greystone/Warrior of Light
Kudos: 17





	Portraiture

One cold morning, after a night of restless dreams, young Mathieu de Laurent suddenly felt compelled to take pen to paper and begin anew. His brushes, having long-sat dusty and forgotten from an extended period of illness, soon found themselves clean (temporarily) and in use (for much longer). His first strokes were shaky, but soon his hands remembered their familiar paths. It was like working in a dream. Mainly because it _had_ been a dream that inspired him. Perhaps it was the Fury herself who finally saw fit to answer his prayers and deliver him from his lost, feverish state.

Even in the flow of pen and paint, he thought to himself _well, it is a strange painting, isn’t it?_ They were figures he didn’t know, yet had seen so clearly. His family’s recent trip to the ruins of Sharlyan too felt clear in his mind. How magnificent the structures! How old the magic! And how lovely the meteor shower they witnessed from the steps of the great library itself! He had wished to paint it, when suddenly a wave of emotion overcame him, then the fever, then the dreams. Ancient, burning cities beneath cool, dark seas, the same streets in springtime with white flowers blooming, the meadows of Ishgard lush and green, the terror of Eorzea conquered-- and now, _now_ , this portrait, the sitting, all in his mind’s eye in the waking world.

He heard himself saying _And, my lady, may I ask whatever happened that your lord should be in such a state?_ And even then he regretted it instantly.

But, to his surprise, he could hear the lord laugh. _A remarkable tale, it is! Surely, you’ve heard of it? Oh ----, why don’t you regale the young man of your adventures?_

The lady sighed, _I will do so only to please you, for I feel no joy from the wretched incident other than that you lived to laugh about it._

 _Ah,_ he replied, _but how splendid you were._

Mathieu blinked, and for a moment, the voices and figures dissipated. A strange painting indeed…

The lady was a beautiful woman, he thought, truly the lord’s praises weren’t misplaced. An elezen, she stood tall and solemn, her hair-- chestnut, streaked with white in spite of her youth-- fell in long, thick waves across her shoulders, down her back and over her chest, and her gown was white and red and splendid. She held a fearsome crook in one hand and had placed the other on her lord’s shoulder. Her eyes were piercing, the color of purest crystal.

The lord, truly quite handsome as well, was particularly striking to him for reasons he couldn’t quite figure out. The sharp angles of his jaw, the silvery-tint of his hair, he looked the image of an elezen knight. Mathieu suspected he was out of the history books, for his image looked so familiar, as if a mirror reflection of a once-great hero of Ishgard. The stars were in his eyes, the sun in his mouth when he smiled. In contrast to his lady, he sat with a sort of ease, a gratefulness and joy. He could not stand with her, but he clearly did not mind. In the regalia of a fine old house, his left hand rested upon a shield, his right on his lady’s hand.

What a pair they made...but, the lord in particular intrigued him. His image was difficult to paint, his voice hard to hear when Mathieu fell into the painting’s visions. He found it was almost easier to paint the image with his eyes closed, carefully moving the brush this way and that, until finally the figure began to take shape and form and became _real_. The lady did not have this issue. She was as real as could be-- frighteningly so. He had the feeling that she wouldn’t harm him, but she wouldn’t be opposed to doing so if she deemed it necessary. The crystals hanging off her crook gleamed like a blood-red lily in the painting’s light. He shuddered, feeling her gaze looking over his shoulder, and...

_You’re doing very well. Thank you._

Relief. It was easier to paint her too, after that. She seemed to relax (though the look in her eyes and the grip on her crook remained, as ever, intense).

 _I will tell the story then,_ said the lord, _to spare you the difficulty. Do you recall Ser DeBorel, my friend?_

 _Of course I do,_ he heard himself say, _He’s still Lord Commander, isn’t he? I can’t have been away from Ishgard that long._

The lord laughed lightly. _He’d gotten himself taken hostage in the midst of the Dragonsong War, not long before the reformation started. How long has it been now…?_

 _Ten years,_ said the lady. _Ten long, long years...so much to be done._

_Sometimes it feels as though it happened yesterday. But, where was I? Oh yes. I was part of the retinue to rescue the Lord Commander, as was ----. The Archbishop fled from the scene of the crime, and we pursued! You should have seen how she fought before, my friend, it was a sight to behold! And how intent she was in chasing her prey! The very thought makes my heart pound in my chest._

Mathieu laughed a little at that. The lord’s fondness for his lady was palpable _almost_ to the point of embarrassment for any parties involved. It filled the room with warmth, and he saw that even the lady’s firm expression began to melt from it.

_One of the Archbishop’s knights-- transformed into a frightful creature indeed-- made to launch a spear of light through her. Indeed, she was so focused on her mission that she scarcely noticed his attack! Unthinking, I ran to her defense, and thus you see how this situation came to be. The attack broke through my shield-- after quite a lot of resistance, mind-- and clean through my mid-section. Though the memory is sweeter to me now, the pain remains as bitter as ever. I should think I would have died, had it not been for her desperation in saving me._

A thought occurred to Mathieu. _That isn’t how it happened_.

He shook his head. As he painted the details on the lord’s regalia, he heard him continue, _It felt as if my very Soul was plucked from the heavens to be returned to me, a hand grasping at my heart-- such a thin ribbon to accomplish such a deed! Ah, but a lovely voice to call me home, such_ light _from her, as none had ever seen. How could I not follow it?_

“Such light…” he repeated under his breath, moving to the finer points of the lady’s face.

The lord was enraptured, _And such a beautiful smile…_

Her expression solidified in the image and it was done.

Feeling lightheaded, Mathieu stumbled back from the canvas and sat down. How long had it been? It was eventide now. On what day? Gracious, even at his most passionate, he’d never been without sense for the outside world before…

The knocking at his door startled him. “Mathieu de Laurent?” called an unfamiliar voice. “That’s you, isn’t it? Can you hear me?”

He threw on a dressing robe and a pair of slippers (he hadn’t realized how cold it was, his fingers and toes were losing their color). “Yes, it is, yes, I can! I beg your pardon, I haven’t been--”

The door opened and the lady from the portrait looked down at him. She was younger, yes, her gown-- still white and red-- less splendid, but it was _her_. She was the Warrior of Light. Lady was her name. Fitting.

“--myself.” he finished weakly. “May I help you?”

She smiled warmly. “I was looking to help _you_ actually. I was in the neighborhood and overheard some people talking about how the de Laurent boy has been convalescing for weeks now, after witnessing a meteor shower in the Dravanian Hinterlands.” she gestured to her garments and her crook, “Being a healer myself, I was intensely concerned. Are you feeling alright? Your family claims to have heard you awake here, yet you would not answer and the door was locked tight. Sometimes a shade would run off into the kitchens or elsewhere in the house on some small errand, but then back into the room like a mouse, the door once again locked behind them. How are you feeling now?”

“Oh, Fury help me…! I had no idea, after all these strange dreams and I...I was so occupied with…”

She must have noticed his gaze fidgeting toward the painting, for she soon looked to it herself. Her expression strange to him, she walked past him and looked at the portrait. “...you made this?” she said.

“Yes.” he answered.

“How?”

“I...I cannot say, my lady. The image came to me suddenly, and I spoke to the subjects as if they were truly here, sitting in front of me. Or, perhaps, more accurately, I was standing in front of them. It was like a dream, yet here the portrait stands, as if it were real.”

Lady looked at the portrait for some time. A certain wistfulness came over her, he thought, and eventually she sighed softly. “It’s a lovely portrait.”

She turned her attention back to him and, presumably, the present. “Tell me more about these dreams you’ve been having, won’t you? I’ll tend to you in the meantime, go on, rest in bed a little while longer.”

He did so, and spoke to her of all he had seen and heard since the shower. The White Magic helped him immensely, and his head was clearer for it. Lady seemed to take it all very seriously, yet there too was a sense of relief. He wondered what it was about, but felt it wasn’t his place to ask. Heroes have quite a lot to do on their own, and he figured that whatever had been troubling her was far beyond his understanding or ability to assist.

Finally, she finished her ministrations and gave him a firm pat on the shoulder. “Good lad. You’ve got quite a lot of skill there, and an interesting gift as well. Though, that said, if I were you, I’d keep it to myself. Nothing dangerous, but you never know what can happen with old magic. I think you should keep the portrait. I might want to buy it from you someday, when I retire.”

He thanked her profusely for her generosity and aid and she replied to him modestly, only asking that he rest and keep the portrait safe for the future. She left him there, closing the door quietly behind her. He heard the sound of a linkshell in use. Curious, Mathieu crept from bed and listened.

“Hello?” she said, her voice low. “Yes, it’s me. Nothing to worry about with the de Laurent boy. Neither the future nor the past-- no kind of truth at all-- simply moments that could have been, but never came to be.” a pause. She sounded almost sad. “I’ll tell you what I found later. I’ll be back soon.”

The excitement of the time finally catching up to him, he walked back toward his bed as she walked away. Before exhaustion could take him, he remembered to move the portrait to a corner of the room to dry, taking one last look at it as he did so. A strange painting...a moment that could have been, but never was. With memories that never were swirling in his mind, he closed his eyes and fell into a blissfully dreamless sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> Some time ago, I got a bit into painting restoration videos. They're very relaxing, and it's interesting to see the process of restoring an old piece of art and, on occasion, solving the mysteries associated with it. This is a fun way of saying that I was inspired to write something about a "haunted" portrait. This portrait isn't "haunted" per say, but it fits the bill of mysterious.
> 
> At first, I wasn't sure about posting this, since it's very much a side story involving a lot of original characters and pretty much no canon save for the framework. But, I liked how it turned out and I thought "eh, why not?"
> 
> I hope that you enjoyed this little peek into a time not in the past, nor the future, but sort of sideways to the world we know...the echo can grant mental slider abilities, right? Sure it can.
> 
> Thanks for reading!
> 
> Edit: a very minor line added to part of the story, for clarification on who's speaking (and just a small edit somewhere else). I figured familiarity with the source material would make it clear, but I ended up a little paranoid and thought that just adding a small line would make me feel better, haha. Thank you once again for reading, I'm glad people seem to enjoy this little side story :D


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